


What didn't happen?

by WeaglesAndBrobeans



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Babysitter Steve Harrington, Hurt Steve Harrington, Protective Steve Harrington, Sad, Steve Harrington & Robin Friendship, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-06-27 03:47:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19782613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeaglesAndBrobeans/pseuds/WeaglesAndBrobeans
Summary: - THIS STORY IS ON HOLD -A fog creeped through his mind and his ears began to ring. Nancy and Jonathan, and their entire ambulance seemed to tip sideways. “Oh shit.”____This fic covers dear Steve's journey between the battle of Starcourt and the day he and Robin apply for jobs at the movie rental shop. (There's a reason it took them 3 months to job hunt my friends).





	1. Please Be Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the battle of Starcourt.

“Sir, I need you to sit still so I can look you over.”

Steve liked the paramedic. She was hot and seemed to care about his welfare to some degree, but he couldn’t sit still. He needed to see his kids, his friends.

Knee bouncing in agitation, he flinched back again as the woman probed at his entirely too tender eyebrow.

“I’m sorry. I just I can’t. I have to-,” he stuttered out as he pulled away. “I will um, take this though.”

He grabbed the thick blanket folded neatly on the stretcher and draped it over his trembling shoulders before stiffly stepping down from the back of her ambulance. Ignoring her cries of protest Steve hobbled, hunched inward, towards the neighboring ambulance.

Peering in he found four of his adoptees cuddled in and attended to. Mike and Lucas sat stiff and worried as they gazed across at their girlfriends who were clinging to one another in grief.

Steve’s heart clinched as he took in Max’s vacant tear-filled eyes. He’d seen his share of horror, but he couldn’t imagine watching someone he cared for die such a gruesome death right before his eyes.

“Hey guys,” he greeted softly. Immediately, four pairs of eyes dashed to him.

“Steve!” cried Lucas as he leapt forward into the older boy’s chest.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, pulling the boy close. The others drew in, looking for comfort from their guardian-turned-friend. He reached around, pulling in Mike and Max, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of the ginger’s head before resting his chin there to peer over at El.

“And you? You hanging in there El?”

His eyes scanned for signs of hidden distress. The girl had a plaster on her forehead and an arm wrapped around her middle, but she gave a small acknowledging smile. “Yes. I think yes.”

He systematically grabbed each kid by the head to peer into their eyes and make sure they were really okay. Something fiercely protective had lodged itself inside of him the night El closed the gate and it hadn’t left. Tonight it was practically roaring within him as he looked at the battered youth.

No. They weren’t okay. But they would be.

“I’m gonna check the others,” he told them before patting Lucas on the back and stepping away from their Ambulance. Mike crawled forward and perched himself at the entrance, feet dangling as he watched Steve leave.

Steve shuffled over to the next ambulance as Will jumped down and ran from the vehicle. Glancing over he smiled as the lanky teen barreled into his mother’s arms. Joyce made it out. Good.

Inside the ambulance Nancy was curled into Jonathan’s side as the two watched Will and Joyce reunite. Steve breathed out and shook his head. “You guys good?”

Both gave him equally disbelieving glances. “Define good Harrington,” Jonathan replied wearily.

Shuffling his feet, Steve dropped his eyes to his shoes. “Yeah, good point.” Swallowing thickly he looked back up at the pair. Both seemed bruised and abused. The group would likely regather in a few days to debrief. Each story would be told, but it seemed pretty clear everyone had been put through the ringer this time around.

  
“Well I’m glad you guys aren’t, like, dead. So. Yeah.”

A fog creeped through his mind and his ears began to ring. Nancy and Jonathan, and their entire ambulance seemed to tip sideways. “Oh shit.”

__

When Steve had rushed from the ambulance, Robin had been the one to talk the paramedic down. “Ah let him go. The dingus won’t rest till he knows his precious children are safe and sound.”

She’d spoken with confidence in the moment, but several minutes passed and an uneasy feeling skittered down her neck. Stepping out of the vehicle, she circled around trying to get eyes on her friend. That’s when Nancy Wheeler cried out.

“Steve!”

Turning hard, Robin locked in on the boy who was quickly becoming her closest friend. Steve lay motionless on the cold wet asphalt and Robin felt her heart leap into her throat. Breaking into a sprint she skidded to a halt by his side as Jonathan and Nancy hovered. Nancy choked on a sob as she grasped at Steve’s limp hand. Robin grimaced.

A paramedic shouldered his way in next to her and began checking vitals. “What happened to him?” he asked, tone gruff.

Nancy and Jonathan hesitated, glancing at each other and then turning to Robin.

Rolling her eyes she faced the man who was actually helping. “More like what didn’t happen. He was captured and beaten until he was unconscious, and they interrogated him and drugged us and then we puked our guts out and then a monster was attacking and we were hiding and then, then he got into a car wreck. It was, it was a lot okay?” Her voice had sped up as she recounted the massive amount of trauma they’d endured in the past 24 hours and by the end her ragged breathing escalated.

“Is it his head? Is it? Do you know? Will he be okay?” Tears gathered in her eyes and with a glance to her left she saw the stricken faces of Nancy and Jonathan as they reeled from her recap. Steve had been through hell.

They weren’t given answers, rather the trio was gently guided away from their friend as the medics transferred him onto a gurney and raced him back towards the ambulance he had abandoned not fifteen minutes prior.

Standing in the rain staring as the doors were slammed shut, the guilt crept in. Robin sunk in on herself and bit her lip. She’d defended his decision to refuse treatment. And now he was unconscious for the second time that day and she’d known. She’d known.

“I, I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I wasn’t thinking. And he was determined to check on everyone, make sure they were okay and I just let him.”

A delicate hand settled on her arm and she glanced up through glassy eyes to the compassionate face of Nancy Wheeler. “That’s kind of what Steve does.”

Nancy looked down for a moment, eyebrows pulled as she thought through whatever was in her mind. When she looked back up her eyes were filled with resolve.

“The car. We still have the station wagon.”

Realization dawned as the three broke into a sprint towards abandoned vehicle.

As they drove towards the hospital, Nancy reminisced.

“You know last year, Billy Hargrove beat Steve to a pulp, knocked him out and kept hitting. That’s what the kids say anyways. And then that same night, concussed out of his mind, he fought to protect them. Faced down monsters with a bat in his hand. Didn’t hesitate. That’s why they love him so much. He’d do anything for them.”

Robin sat in the back, feet pulled onto the seat so she could rest her head on her knees. She gazed at the patterns of rain dotted on the fogged glass and shining as the street lights zoomed by. Thinking back to the summer as those punks came by time after time to bug Steve or abuse his access to the back halls. She’d thought it strange, but had never really asked about it. But their loyalty and fondness made sense now. To them Steve was a hero and a friend. And again today he’d put himself on the line over and over again to protect them.

He’d fought a Russian. He’d thrown himself against the door to let the kids escape. He’d willingly crashed into Billy’s car to protect Nancy. He gave and he gave. And to think that a few months prior she’d assumed he was the most selfish person in Hawkins.

A stray tear rolled down Robin’s cheek as she tuned out Nancy’s nervous chattering. She thought he was so stupid. And maybe in some ways he was a total dingus. But, he’d also shown himself to be brave as he took action in crisis after crisis.

Steve the Hair Harrington was actually pretty amazing.

Clinching her eyes shut Robin saw those warm brown eyes and that wide goofy smile. Then she saw his still form, collapsed in the parking lot. Another tear slipped out. _Please be okay Steve._


	2. Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You left him. You broke his heart. You moved on to a happy little relationship while he tries and he tries and he tries but nobody’s you. And he’s fucking lonely.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones super short so sorry, but hey the story is moving forward!

The group hurried up just to wait. There was something draining about sitting stiffly in the quiet waiting room. 

The adrenaline had worn off leaving three traumatized youth staring forlornly at the cheap wall art. 

“I hate this,” seethed Robin as she sat hands clasped and foot tapping. All of her fear, worry, and guilt had her insides spinning and her mind whirring. Sitting still would prove an impossible feat. 

“We all do Robin,” Nancy softly replied. The attempt at empathy fell flat. 

“No. You left him. You broke his heart. You moved on to a happy little relationship while he tries and he tries and he tries but nobody’s you. And he’s fucking lonely. Steve? He may have a heart of gold. But I do not. And he may not say it, but I will. Fuck you Wheeler.”

Nancy pulled back, leaning into Jonathan for support as tears sprang to her eyes. 

“What should I have done?” Nancy retorted, voice bordering on a whine. “Keep pretending that it was going somewhere? Keep pretending that we made any sense together at all? We were reckless Robin. I’m impulsive and he’s precipitous. We were a mess. And we didn’t see eye to eye. I need someone steady.  Steve  needs someone steady. Okay? And I’m sorry. I’m sorry he was hurt. I shouldn’t have waited until I was drunk to tell him but it was coming either way. And I love him. I do. He’s grown so much and I want the very best for him. He’s my friend. So just, lay off okay? If he’s not, if he doesn’t,” she paused to breathe and calm her thoughts. “I need him to be fine. This sucks for  all of us and you spending a few weeks working with him doesn’t give you the right to act like you know what happened between us.”

Jonathan squeezes her shoulder. She knew exactly what it meant. It was time to breathe and shut up. 

The two brunettes sat facing each other, breath ragged and eyes bloodshot, glassed with emotion. 

“I’m sorry. Today’s been, it’s been a lot,” Robin relented. She bit her lip and stared for a moment at her hands before she carried on. “You didn’t, you don’t deserve me shitting on you. I’m sorry.”

Nancy smiled wryly at the girl before a grin fought its way to her face. 

“Well I’m sorry that you had to put up with Steve while he was on the hunt. God that was probably the worst.”

Laughing wetly, Robin grinned. “He really sucks. But boy did he rake in the customers. Every girl in Hawkins would come by just to see him make a fool of himself. They really were smitten!”

Devolving into giggles, the two finally felt at least one weight lifted off their shoulders. 

Something about their conversation managed to alleviate some of the tension keeping them awake. With a newfound truce, exhaustion settled over the group. 

They settled listening to the pattern of rain dancing on the roof blending with the occasional ruffle of papers or creak of a chair. 

Before they knew it, they’d drifted off, Nancy with her head on Jonathan’s chest. His arm wrapped protectively around her as he rested his own head atop of hers. Robin even curled up, falling asleep with her head in Nancy’s lap. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am, in fact, a human being and therefore I do, in fact, find myself motivated by comments and constructive criticism. So do share with the class!!


	3. Sedated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Needle pressing into his neck, Steve begged as tears streamed down his face.  
> “Please don’t drug me. Please,” he whimpered until his eyes finally slipped shut.

Steve woke up in the ambulance. Groggy and disoriented, the straps across his forehead and body were the only things he could focus on. He panicked. 

“Please don’t,” he slurred out. “I don’t know anything and I work for Scoops Ahoy. Please!”

As soon as the young man began to cry out, the attending medics descended upon him. 

“Mr. Harrington, Steve, you are safe now,” she said firmly in a calm tone. 

For a moment Steve stilled, though his breathing remained heavy. “You’re getting help. We’re nearly there and a doctor’s going to make sure you receive all the care you need.”

Unfortunately, at the word doctor Steve renewed is efforts straining against the security bands holding him to the stretcher. 

“No, please no more. Please! Not him, not him!”

When his panic only escalated they had no choice but to sedate him. 

Needle pressing into his neck, Steve begged as tears streamed down his face. 

“Please don’t drug me. Please,” he whimpered until his eyes finally slipped shut. 

The two medics sighed as their charge finally rested. 

“Kid’s faced too much,” the first responder lamented. 

His partner gazed down at Steve and shook her head. “Far too much.”

Pulling open the window between the back and the cab she called out, “what’s our ETA Rob? We had to sedate and if it doesn’t mix well with the TBI I’d rather we have him where he can get proper care.”

  


——

  


“Family of Steve Harrington?”

The name alone stirred the clump of young adults from their sleep. Rubbing at her eyes it took Robin a moment to recognize that a doctor was looking around the room. The drowsiness faded and she sprang to her feet. 

“Did you call for Steve Harrington?”

The older gentleman in a white coat looked her direction, eyebrows raised. 

“Is Mr. Harrington’s family here?”

Robin hesitated. She hadn’t even thought to call them, not that she’d know how to reach them. Steve never really spoke about his home life. 

Thankfully Nancy and Jonathan has been roused as well. 

“His parents are out of town,” informed Jonathan. “They aren’t due back for several weeks.”

The doctor considered the three battered teens before nodding. 

“Well, I’m Doctor Kotter and I’m attending to Mr. Harrington. He is doing remarkably well all things considered. He’s stable and resting for now.”

Nancy, ever the investigator, spoke up. “What’s wrong with him? And what made him pass out? What does recovery look like?”

She may have kept going, but Dr. Kotter raised his hand. 

“Slow down there. Let me give you the rundown. Mr. Harrington suffered two broken ribs, an orbital fracture, which is his eye socket, on the left eye. We also found a wide array of superficial cuts and bruises. These things should heal within two to six weeks depending.

The only concern at this point is the blunt force trauma to the head. He’s got a pretty severe concussion which has the possibility of complicating due to his recent history of head injuries. We’re going to keep an eye on it and be with him every step of the way. The bruising in his brain combined with the rest of his ailments likely caused his collapse.”

It was a lot to take in and the questions piled as quickly as they were answered but Dr. Kotter was patient and informative. These kids had suffered tremendously and the least he could do was put their minds at rest. 

“When can we see him?” Robin practically begged. 

The older man smiled gently at the determination in her gaze. 

“You can see him right now.”

As the group walked down the hallway Dr. Kotter did his best to prepare them for the visit.

“Mr. Harrington is currently sedated. He was awake momentarily on transport, but for us to work on him we needed him to be calm.”

Nausea rolled within Robin. “He wasn’t, he wasn’t calm?”

For the first time the doctor hesitated. “He was agitated, fearful. Responded especially volatile to the word doctor.”

Face paling, Robin stopped in her tracks. “Oh Steve, oh god. He thinks, he thinks the Russians have him.”

“How do you figure?”

Pushing past the tremor rising within her, Robin swallowed thickly and blinked back tears. “They beat him unconscious, and then promised to bring a doctor. But,” she paused shivering. “He was like, an interrogator. He had this huge syringe gun and dosed us with something, maybe LSD? And he was gonna pull off Steve’s fingernails. He was, he had a bone saw. It was, the man was vile okay and if Steve thinks that’s the doctor waiting for him, well I’d be pretty volatile too.”

Tears were readily streaming down her cheeks now as she finished voicing for the first time, the details of what they’d endured. Nancy and Jonathan were also choking on emotion. Getting beat in a fight you chose to engage in is a whole lot different than being tortured.

Dr. Kotter waited for the teens to regather their frayed emotions before he spoke again. “Well, then he’ll be glad to have his friends nearby when he wakes again. Thank you for your insight miss. It’ll prove helpful for our staff moving forward. Let’s get you all to Mr. Harrington.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBI stands for Traumatic Brain Injury.
> 
> Also, thanks for your encouraging comments!!! I too love me a feisty Robin. She's the best.


	4. There's Always More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin had never really spent any time in a hospital before. She’d only ever seen what was portrayed in movies. But when you walk into a room, with someone you care about deeply and they’re form is misshaped by a generic hospital gown, and their wrist is pierced with an IV needle, and they’re not awake or able to respond to your hand slipping into theirs…   
> She didn’t like it.

Robin had never really spent any time in a hospital before. She’d only ever seen what was portrayed in movies. But when you walk into a room, with someone you care about deeply and they’re form is misshaped by a generic hospital gown, and their wrist is pierced with an IV needle, and they’re not awake or able to respond to your hand slipping into theirs…

She didn’t like it. The whole thing made Steve seem too powerless and fragile. She wanted her Steve back. She wanted the goofy, charming, dingus who bantered with her and accepted her with a smile and a joke. She wanted the bigger than life idiot who she’d come to adore, not this hollow, frail, boy.

The three surrounded Steve as he lay motionless in the hospital bed. The stark lighting of the room gave too clear a view of his battered face. Stitches crawled out of his lip and the tender skin beneath his left eye seemed sickeningly glossy where it stretched thin over the swelling.

“Oh Steve,” Robin gasped as she slipped her hand into his.

Part of her hoped he’d stir awake, that his bright eyes would find hers and he’d tell her to stop moping around. But he didn’t. This wasn’t the movies.

Across from her Nancy had drawn near, brushing stray hair from his forehead and frowning deeply as well. They were all disquieted.

“Last year we made him go to the doctor. He was so bruised, so swollen. But he was awake the whole time I was with him. He kept complaining and bickering and cursing. It didn’t feel like this.”

Robin gazed at Nancy as she spoke, something twisting in her gut. Steve had been hurt before and her mind couldn’t reconcile it. How did this charming, laid back kid keep showing up for the end of the world and getting his ass kicked?

______________

“Would you rather lose the ability to read or lose the ability to speak?”

“Speak, duh,” Robin retorted to Jonathan’s question.

“What? I could never give up being able to talk,” countered Nancy, but she trailed off when a grin grew on Robin’s face. “What?”

“If you couldn’t read then you’d have nothing intelligent worth saying.”

“Losing the ability to read wouldn’t take away everything I’ve learned until now!”

“Oh so you’re all knowing now?”

“I could be!”

“I’d make you both lose the ability to speak so a guy could get a little shut eye around here,” interjected a slurred tired voice.

All three leapt from their seats.

“Steve? Steve you’re awake?”

Glaring through squinted eyes, the brunette gazed blurrily at his friends. “Yeah. I lived bitch.”

Nancy huffed while Robin bit her lip to keep from smiling. “That was never in question Steve,” Nancy assured, but Steve’s eyebrows rose at the statement.

“Wow, it definitely was for me, like a lot in question.”

He winced and shifted in the bed, clearly uncomfortable. “So we’re good then? I thought, I don’t know. I thought.” He let out a shaky breath and stared vacantly at the wall.

“You’re safe Steve. We made it out. There’s no more bad guys,” Robin tried to assure him. She wasn’t expecting the steady gaze leveled solemnly in her direction.

“There’s always more Robin. Always.”

A hush fell in the room. Because he was right. It’s been three years in a row battling for their lives and picking up the pieces. They were like a child trying to build a tower out of blocks just to have someone else knock it back down each time. When do you stop building? When does it get to you?

Surprisingly it was Jonathan who spoke.

“He man, that doesn’t mean we face it alone. Whatever comes, whatever’s waiting up around the corner, we don’t have to face it alone.”

Steve considered the younger man. Slowly tears began to pool in his eyes. “Billy did.”

The three flinched, likely seeing the graphic image of their classmate fighting the Mind Flayer with his bare hands just to be speared through the chest.

“You’re not Billy. You’re Steve and… and you’ve changed. You aren’t alone because we won’t let you be,” insisted Nancy.

Blinking at the tears in his eyes, Steve chose to stare resolutely at the wall. “Sorry. I’m just-,” he trailed off, breathing escalating as hot tears began to run down his cheeks. “I don’t know.”

He felt restless and agitated. Grief warred with relief forming a monstrous wave of guilt. His body ached, his face burned, he was bone tired. He didn’t know how to deal.

Shifting again, a whimper escaped as his ribs protested.

“Steve, do you need something? Does it hurt? It doesn’t have to hurt Steve,” encouraged Robin. Her heart ached when all he replied with was a small, “please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving your comments! They're so motivating and sweet. Hoping to keep cranking this out!


	5. A Long and Restless Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why don’t you girls go home and get some rest?”  
> The two glared at him, Nancy rubbing at her eyes and straightening her back. The last thing they wanted to do was leave.   
> “Yeah, that’s a no,” objected Robin from her perch on the window seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels like a lot of filler and it's slower paced so sorry about that. Just working to establish the group dynamic so bear with me!

With a fresh dose of pain medication, Steve had quickly fallen asleep, leaving the three to occupy themselves once again. The late hour had the three fighting their second adrenaline crash of the night.

When Nancy’s head bobbed for the fourth time, Jonathan couldn’t let it go.

“Why don’t you girls go home and get some rest?”

The two glared at him, Nancy rubbing at her eyes and straightening her back. The last thing they wanted to do was leave.

“Yeah, that’s a no,” objected Robin from her perch on the window seat. “It’s not like I have a job to return to tomorrow.”

A laugh startled out of Nancy at that. “Yeah, wow. Neither do we.”

Robin’s eyebrows shot up as she turned towards Nancy. “I thought you two had that internship thing. Don’t you work for the paper?”

“Well, we were fired today after attempting to, I don’t know, publish the truth.”

Jonathan rubbed a weary hand down his own face as the two dove into what was sure to be a heated rally against the system. Not that he blamed them. He may have preferred to keep his head low, but they had no right to treat Nancy the way they did.

“Are you kidding me? Isn’t that the whole point of the news?”

Throwing her hands up Nancy nodded. “You would think so, and it wasn’t even the mayor or some outside voice trying to quiet things down. It was a room full of incompetent jack asses with no intention of ever covering anything of value. They were too busy stuffing their faces and belittling the resident female, who happened to be me.”

Scowling, Robin felt her face heat up with rage. “Are you shitting me? Why aren’t we over this yet? Why does a fucking piece of meat hanging between your legs give you any right to treat someone like garbage?”

“Right?!”

“God I want to walk down there and give them hell.”

“Well,” Nancy retorted. “I kind of already killed them so…”

Sputtering, Robin slammed her feet the floor, eyes widening. “You what?”

“Relax, they were possessed by the monster I guess. It was self-defense. Completely.”

“Holy shit.”

Nancy nodded, “you can say that again." 

Their conversation tapered off and the trio sat in silence for a moment. But, Jonathan hadn’t forgotten his prior suggestion. Tentatively, he spoke up once more.

“So, there’s no jobs for… well any of us to get sleep for. But that doesn’t mean we don’t need rest after all that’s happened.”

Robin pulled her feet back up so she sat scrunched in a ball. Chin resting on her knees her eyes focused on the floor, gaze a million miles away or perhaps just a few hours back.

“I don’t think,” she began softly. “I don’t think I want to be alone Jonathan. I’m in this shitty apartment now and the thought of going there right now just, I hate it.”

For the first time, he got it. Being at the hub of everything with his whole family in the know, he hadn’t thought about how hard it must be to return to a family that was confused at your strange behavior. He never had to be alone with any of this.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Maybe we can ask the doctor and he can get a cot or something?”

Nancy wandered into the hall and managed to convince a registered nurse to bring them another cot and pillows.

Robin curled up with a blanket on the window seat while Nancy settled into the cot. Jonathan had found a spot on the floor closest to the door.

It was a long and restless night. Nightmares plagued each of the four youth, and when they were managing to rest well, they’d be awoken by the nurses checking in on Steve’s status. The battered young man had slipped in and out of consciousness throughout the night as well, haunted by his own visions and dreams.

As the sun streamed through the window, Robin sat up to gaze out of it. Dark bags hung under her eyes, it was her second night in a row with basically no rest- the first being in an elevator with their precious Scoop Troop. At least she still had some level of hope left within her at that point. This morning she watched as Hawkins came to life and couldn’t help the cynicism that rose within her. So many people were waking up and puttering around with no knowledge of the madness that struck the night before.

Stretching she winced as her back popped and her limbs strained. It could’ve been the makeshift bed, it could’ve been the Russians tossing her around like a ragdoll, or perhaps whiplash from smashing into Billy’s car. Regardless, her muscles were pissed off.

“Rob, you up?” asked a sleepy voice across the room. She whipped her head around to see Steve, head tilted towards her and eyes blinking heavily.

“Yeah, yeah I am Steve. How are you doing bud?”

She crawled down from the seat and maneuvered around Nancy’s cot where she’d finally fallen into a proper sleep.

Steve stared at her through glassy eyes. “Oh I feel really great. Yeah, just super actually.”

She felt warm as fondness rushed through her. Crawling up next to him in the bed, she tucked her feet under his pillow so she could face him. “Yeah well, it’s not every night we get to sleep in such luxury. This was lush compared to last night’s accommodations.”

His brow furrowed for a moment, “yesterday? Oh wow, that was yesterday in the elevator?”

Worry tugged at Robin. She didn’t know if it was his head injuries or the medicine, perhaps even both, but Steve was slurring and easily confused. Something wasn’t right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best!! Thanks for coming along for this ride!!!


	6. A Popsicle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve’s glassy eyes lit up. “I could do a popsicle. You should press that nurse button and get me a popsicle!”

The door burst open slamming against the wall and startling all of the room’s occupants. Coiled in defense, the teens whipped their heads towards the intruder. Well, Steve blinked owlishly at the entryway, he wasn’t up for sudden movement at the moment.

Standing in the room was Dustin Henderson, hair askew and breathing heavily. He was doing his very best to appear indignant, but his darling little face made it near impossible.

“Hey dingus, you can’t just slam into hospital rooms! People are trying to heal here, like actively.”

“I don’t want to hear it Robin! I’m mega pissed right now! Do you want to know why?”

Before anyone could agree or deny the offer, the curly haired teen carried on. “Last night, I was deserted. Your little child endangerment gig turned into to child abandonment. Radio silence and no recon to pick up your people? It’s a disgrace.”

Flustered and huffing, Dustin finished his rant by slamming his hand on a cocked hip.

As the others were wracking their brains for what to say to the teen, Steve spoke up.

“Henderson! When did you get here?” he slurred out with enthusiasm.

Robin winced.

“What? Steve, did you not hear anything I just said?”

Steve squinted in confusion, but Robin rubbed his shoulder as she turned to face Dustin.

“Hey bud, Steve here has a head injury. You have to be patient. Maybe drop your expectations even lower than normal.”

“But, he’s hit his head before and he wasn’t… well he wasn’t like this.”

Nancy decided to join in. “That’s how head injuries work Dustin. The more you get knocked around the worse it gets. So we’re keeping the shades drawn and our voices down. You can stay, but be kind.”

‘Kind’ felt like completely foreign territory between the two. But Steve had watched out for him enough times that returning the favor (even if it was twice in 48 hours) felt reasonable.

Dustin stepped cautiously towards the hospital bed as Robin stepped away to make room for him.

“Steve are you… are you okay?” he asked.

“Me? Henderson I am so good. I’m,” he paused with a wince before pondering a moment. “Well, my ears are kind of ringing. But I’m fine. I’ll be just fine.” Some of his words were clear while others slurred heavily.

Dustin was finally picking up on how off Steve seemed to be.

“Can I uh, get you anything?”

Steve’s glassy eyes lit up. “I could do a popsicle. You should press that nurse button and get me a popsicle!”

Dustin turned in a circle trying to track down a call button when his eyes landed on a red button near the door. Just as his hand was slamming down towards it, the three coherent teens all called out in objection. But it was too late.

An alarm immediately set off triggering a string of “shit! Shit! Shit” from Dustin. Steve scrunched in on himself, hands over his ears, as every available nurse on the floor burst into the room. One glance at the situation unveiled exactly what went wrong.

“Did you push this? An older woman in a nurses uniform asked a beet red Dustin. He gave a meek nod.

“Did you need something?”

Another meek nod. “Um, Steve asked me to call for a,” Dustin winced before he could even get the now entirely too humiliating request out. “popsicle?”

The woman laughed warmly. “I think we can do that. Now. This button is for emergency care. If you have any non-urgent requests, you can push the button to the left of his bed over there. Do you think you can stick to that for me?”

A final meek nod.

As the older nurse spoke with Dustin, a younger woman had approached Steve, who even after the alarm quit, had his hands over his ears.

“Mr. Harrington?”

Biting his lip he eyed her, but didn’t remove his hands. It took some coaxing, but she eventually managed to get him to release his hold.

“Okay, now are you feeling any pain Mr. Harrington or do you just want that popsicle?”

“It’s loud,” he whispered. “The noise in my head. It’s too loud.”

“What does it sound like Mr. Harrington?”

“It’s ringing and it’s too loud.”

“Okay, is it in both of your ears, or just one?”

He paused at that, eyes scrunched as he focused on the chaos in his mind.

“My left ear. It’s just in my left ear.”

Nodding, she patted his shoulder. “Okay Mr. Harrington. I’m going to send in Dr. Kotter and he may do some tests, but I think your concussion has resulted in tinnitus which is the noise in your ear. Once he confirms, we can take some steps to help ease that. Hang in there.”

After testing, Dr. Kotter did confirm the condition. He requested that Steve receive a slightly higher dose on his pain management as well as a white noise machine be brought in to help distract from the ache of the ringing. Once the steps were in place, Steve fell promptly asleep.

Dustin ate the popsicle.


	7. Speech Pathology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The primary role of a speech pathologist is to work with speech and language disorders. But it doesn’t stop there.

As the day wore on it became clear that this couldn’t continue forever. Eventually each of them would have to go home and shower and sleep and eat and whatever else it would take to function as normal humans again. 

Talking it out, they decided to pull back a bit by having one of them with Steve at a time. 

Robin, as the only one without a traumatized sibling at home, took the first shift. 

She talked with Steve about a myriad of topics regardless of his inability to track or maintain focus. 

She helped him with his lunch after his hands trembled spilling his water. 

She did her very best to remain alert and present. But eventually she couldn’t resist the cot Nancy had used the night prior. With a final glance at the currently sleeping Steve Harrington, she allowed herself to drift off. 

Robin awoke to an empty room. 

Her heart jolted in her chest and her head whirled as she leapt to her feet. 

“Steve?! Steve?!”

Tearing open the door she ran out just to slam into the broad chest of Dr. Kotter. 

The older man steadied the panicked girl and held her at arms length. “Miss Buckley? What’s wrong?”

Eyes burning with tears, hands shaking uncontrollably, chest heaving, it took her a moment to articulate her fear. 

“Steve he’s, he’s gone. Where’s Steve?”

The man smiled softly and steered her back into the room. 

“Mr. Harrington is just fine. He has simply been taken downstairs for a preliminary session with our resident Speech Pathologist.”

Robins eyebrows furrowed as she processed what she’d been told. 

“Speech? You mean his slurring? Won’t that clear up as his head heals?”

Smiling the doctor gestured for Robin to sit down. She plopped back onto the window seat as Dr. Kotter pulled up the round wheeled stool. 

“The primary role of a speech pathologist is to work with speech and language disorders. But it doesn’t stop there. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but Steve’s cognitive functioning hasn’t been firing properly. We would call this a cognitive-communication disorder. It’s when someone dealing with a head injury struggles with things such as organizing his thoughts, paying attention, remembering, planning, or problem-solving. We want to start now in helping Steve return to full health.”

It was a lot take in, but it made sense. Regardless, something in her gut told Robin that not everything was as it appeared. This was Hawkins after all. 

Itching to find Steve and check on him herself, she counted to fifteen to let Dr. Kotter move on to his next patient before peeking through the door and sneaking down the hallway. 

Tiptoeing up to the front desk she smiled sweetly at the elderly woman perched there. 

“Ma’am. Would you mind pointing me to the floor where a speech pathology session would be taking place?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnnnnn. 
> 
> Thanks for coming along on this adventure with me!!!!! Things are gonna get exciting here real quick. 
> 
> As always I adore your comments. They are my gasoline. :)


	8. Malen'kiy Shpion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We will have your secrets soon malen'kiy shpion.”

Steve awoke to darkness. He blinked. Nothing. He blinked again. Still nothing. He tried to pull his hands up to rub at his eyes only to find restraints pulling at his wrists. A cry of despair was muffled by a wad of cloth filling his mouth and the tape spread across his lips. Thrashing his head back and forth he realized that his ears too were covered.

The more he became aware of his surroundings, the more he realized how cut off from his surroundings he really was. Panic set in.

Despite the gag, he screamed as best he could, pushing all of his fear and rage into his efforts. After a few minutes, he fell silent as his head rang with his own cries.

Tears gathered and Steve choked on a sob. His anguish quickly tilted towards terror as he realized his tears were making it more difficult to breathe. His nose, already crusted with blood, began to fill with drainage from his crying. It was blocking his only airway.

Straining against the straps, Steve pulled and pulled, but to no end.

Finally the distraught youth collapsed against the bed, trembling as despair crashed over him.

___

“It’s going to kill him,” hummed Valeriya Sokolova. The lean brunette had been watching their prisoner respond to his situation. She’d noted his reactions and despite her comment, she made no move to aid the teen. She simply waited. Waited until his aggression faded to shaking and fear. Waited until he slumped motionless.

“Darling,” she called, waving to the man standing by the door. “Go fetch me that endotracheal tube.”

Hesitating, the man stared for a moment at the unconscious youth bound to the table. “Won’t missing equipment alert the hospital to our presence?”

The brunette sauntered towards her employee and fake nails digging in, she grabbed his throat.

“Darling. If our little spy dies he’s of no use to us. Yes? But if we take off his gag, will he not be heard? No do as I say. And never question me again.”

Pulling her hand away, the wide eyed man nodded before rushing from the room.

Valeriya leaned over Steve and ripped away the tape before pulling out the cloth. The boy began to cough, but he didn’t seem to be waking up. She stroked his chin with the pad of her thumb. “We will have your secrets soon malen'kiy shpion.”

___

When Steve woke for the second time, he immediately felt himself gag. Choking, he swallowed convulsively around what felt like something hard and plastic running down his throat. A second panic attack hit as his mind whirled and tears absorbed into the cloth around his eyes. This time though, as he finally came down from the attack, he noted he could still breathe. Whatever seemed to be choking him seemed to be filling his lungs with air.

The realization settled his nerves significantly. Eventually he fell asleep.

___

Throughout the afternoon, Valeriya observed as Steve drifted between consciousness and sleep. Sometimes he awoke violently, tearing and pulling at his bonds. Sometimes he woke gently, touching each of his fingers with his thumb, and popping his knuckles before stretching his fingers out.

After five hours of sensory deprivation, Valeriya decided to test the waters. Deflating the balloon in his chest, she pulled the tube from Steve’s throat. When the boy began to gag and heave, she unstrapped his left arm and pulled his shoulder off the table. He whimpered, but the position allowed him to vomit into the trash can she’d held to his mouth. When his puking turned to dry heaves she slammed his shoulder back down and retied the restraint.

She left his blindfold on, but peeled off the ear set.

“Now malen'kiy shpion. I want you to know that you don’t have to suffer. You can be honest instead.”

___

All Steve could register in his pounding mind was that the woman speaking had a funny accent. A familiar accent.

“We can start with the easy questions,” the voice said. “Are you from Hawkins?”

He gave a soft nod.

“Very good. Do you have a partner?”

The question didn’t make sense to him. His lips formed a pout and as soon as it was asked, he’d forgotten it.

Fingers were combing through his hair.

“When I ask you questions, I need you to respond. Can you do that?”

Another soft nod.

“Do you have a partner?”

Steve shook his head left to right. “M ‘lone. Said it was bullshit.”

The fingers kept stroking.

“What was bullshit?”

Steve had to think. He couldn’t really remember. He wasn’t sure he ever knew. Then it hit. A phrase bouncing in his mind.

“She didn’t love me.”

His chest clinched and the ache felt so familiar. His mind fuzzily supplied the face of a girl. She was drunk and angry. The picture morphed into another girl. She was laughing. His ears began to ring again and he whimpered at the pain it caused.

___

Valeriya pulled back. Either they’d grabbed the wrong patient or the spy who managed to break into an impenetrable facility was too inured to process the situation she’d pulled him back into.

Sliding the headphones back over the youth’s ears, she turned back to her lackey. “I need a copy of his medical chart. Something’s not right.”

Turning back to her prisoner, she cupped a hand over his mouth and plunged a sedative into his neck. He yelled as the needle entered his neck, but his cries were muffled by her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> malen'kiy shpion is google translates attempt at saying little spy in Russian. If you know of a more accurate phrase, please let me know!
> 
> Thanks for following along and for your encouraging and witty comments. I really do enjoy them.


	9. Incompetence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll ask one more time. Where the hell is Steve?”  
> Smile dripping with condescension, Dr. Kotter leaned against a counter and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Miss Buckley, we’ve already had this conversation. Do we need to check your head as well?”

Robin sat flopped over in a stiff chair. The hospital had one speech pathologist and according to her receptionist, the woman’s current meeting was uninterruptable. That conversation happened an hour ago.

Perking up at the sound of the door, Robin looked expectantly at the office. Except, a child walked out. A little girl with curly red hair and freckles. Decidedly not Steve.

Storming to the desk, Robin slammed her hand on its top. “Ma’am. That’s not Steve Harrington.”

The elderly woman peered at Robin over her pointed glasses, eyes bored and exasperated. “I don’t recall ever saying that it was.”

Huffing, Robin pulled at her hair.

“Well, the doctor told me Steve had been taken down for an appointment with the speech pathologist. So where is he?”

Casually perusing her paperwork, the woman noted the boy’s name had been crossed out and rescheduled for a later time.

“His appointment was rescheduled. I’m sure it’s fine. See? He was redirected to Radiology for a CT scan.”

Robin stilled, eyes narrowing. “Is that common? Having multiple CT scans in a row? Wouldn’t that be expensive?”

Chomping on gum, the receptionist sighed loudly and rubbed at her face, lipstick smudging in the process. “Excuse me?”

“The CT scan. Steve received one yesterday when he’d been diagnosed with his concussion. Why would he be receiving a second one today?”

Finally the woman gave pause. Flapping her hand at Robin she picked up the desk phone and dialed.

“Hello? Yes. I’d like to check in on a patient. Steven Harrington. No. Well, I was told to reschedule his appointment because he’d be with you. No. It was, well I can’t recall who delivered the message.”

The woman continued her ramblings and while Robin could only hear one side of the conversation, she had gathered enough. Somehow, Steve had gone missing. And if her estimate was correct, it’s been over three hours.

When the woman hung up, she wouldn’t look Robin in the eyes. “I’ve asked security to search the premises. If you want to be kept in the loop, you need to go wait in Mr. Harrington’s room.”

Robin’s gut flashed with rage. This incompetent woman had delayed this search for well over an hour. Steve could be anywhere.

Marching back up several flights of stairs, Robin’s mind searched for some sort of explanation. How could a hospital lose a patient? Were they simply this careless or was something else going on? She couldn’t decide if she was being paranoid or if this whole situation really did warrant the level of fear churning within her.

Turning back into the Trauma Intensive Care Unit, Robin caught sight of Dr. Kotter. She didn’t take a moment to think, she simply strode towards the doctor with determination in her gait.

“Where the hell is Steve?”

The man glanced up, surprised at the approach of the angry young woman. “Oh it’s you. I’d wondered where you’d gotten off to.”

Planting her hands on her hips, Robin stared coolly up at the man. “Answer the damn question.”

“Don’t you take that tone with me young lady,” Dr. Kotter threatened, looming over the short brunette.

She didn’t back down.

“I’ll ask one more time. Where the hell is Steve?”

Smile dripping with condescension, Dr. Kotter leaned against a counter and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Miss, I do believe we’ve already had this conversation. Do we need to check your head as well?”

Robin had been well liked by her teachers in school. Her parents were strange, but they’d always trusted her and shown her respect. She’d never in her life faced such arrogance radiating off of an adult.

“He’s not with the speech pathologist. Never was. Somebody rescheduled his appointment because he was apparently in radiology getting a second CT scan. Except, wait. He never arrived there either. So I need you to tell me what you’ve done with my friend. Or, if you’ve lost him then I suggest you get your head out of your ass long enough to maybe track him down.”

Standing with her feet planted and her chin jutting out, Robin batted her eyes at the man. “Well?”

Dr. Kotter stood for a moment, red in the face and sputtering. He’d never been talked back to before. He’d never had kids nor wanted them. But then, despite her atrocious attitude, this young woman had a point.

Stalking by her, he reached the phone hanging on the wall and yanked it off its hold. Speaking with the receptionist from downstairs, he paled. Somehow, he’d just lost a patient.

Turning to the petite girl, he took a deep breath before looking her in the eyes. “We’ve lost track of Mr. Harrington. We’re remedying the situation as we speak. Please wait in his room until further notice.”

Robin smiled and nodded in compliance, but the moment she turned her back to the man, she grimaced. There was no way she as going to leave this to the obviously preoccupied staff here at the Hawkins Hospital.

Entering Steve’s room she pulled the door closed behind her before pacing back and forth. She needed to at least wait long enough to imitate submission.

Waiting for the clock to countdown felt excruciating. Her hands kept fidgeting and her mind kept racing down rabbit trails with guards and monsters and interrogators at the end of them. She hoped this was all some mistake as a result of small town dumbassery, but something deep in her said it was more.

Ten minutes had gone by when Robin peeked out of the room. With the coast clear she bolted towards the elevator. One floor up, the lift paused and a young man stepped in beside her. He took one look at her and stepped back. Glancing down Robin realized she was still in her Scoops Ahoy uniform. So much for trying to be inconspicuous.

Stepping off at the top floor, Robin crept down the corridor checking rooms as she went. Voices bounced off the walls drawing closer, and in a panic, she jumped into a room to hide. As she waited for the footsteps to pass, she breathed deeply, willing her heartrate to slow down. After a moment, she turned to see where she’d ended up in her hurry to hide.

In a pleasant turn of events, Robin realized she’d ended up in a storage room. Shelves of extra scrubs and uniforms covered the walls. Digging through to find her size, she grabbed a set and peeled off her shirt. The fabric rubbed along her face and she gagged. It smelt of stale vomit and popcorn. No wonder the man had stepped away. She hopped out of her shorts and then pulled on the clean scrubs. Too bad she wasn’t clean to match, but it was something.

Now relatively disguised, Robin continued her systematic floor by floor search of the hospital.

Another hour passed and Robin was stepping into the basement hallway. She’d yet to find Steve and her heart hurt at the thought of what they’d do if he’d somehow been taken from the building. Where would they even begin? He’d already been missing for nearly 5 hours at this point. He’d be long gone if he were alive at all.

Shaking her head to clear the morbid trail of thinking, Robin reached the handle of the first door.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a harsh voice demanded. “This area is restricted. You must have a badge to be down here.”

Robin spun to see a young man in the same generic scrubs as her. As she gazed at the man, she noticed that he didn’t have any identification, he wasn’t security or a doctor, and he didn’t have a badge. Pulling back her shoulders, she did her best to appear confident.

“You’re absolutely right. This area _is_ restricted. Please present your badge sir.”

Holding out her hand expectantly, Robin watched as the young man hesitated and stuttered out a weak excuse about having left his upstairs.

“Well, see to it that you retrieve it,” she commanded. “We can’t have just anyone wandering down here.”

Flustered, the man scrambled towards the staircase.

The interaction had Robin on high alert. That man didn’t belong here. He fell for her bluff after all.

She continued checking door after door until at the end of the hallway she heard the faint sound of a voice. Pressing her ear to the door, she realized the voice rang familiar. Not the voice itself and she didn’t’ understand the words spoken, but it was enough to send her heart into her throat. Behind this door a woman was speaking in rapid Russian.

Steve had to be in that room.


	10. Wonder Woman and the Sparkle Pipe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was just one woman. Easy. Except, Robin’s mind was supplying images of Lynda Carter strangling her to death with her tone legs and red Wonder Woman boots. Not a bad way to go, but Robin also wanted to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My daily update is here! I always end up writing on my lunch break because this story stalks me day and night with ideas. Ya'll should seriously seem my list of ideas. It's overwhelming.  
> Anyways. Enjoy!

Robin had never fought a Russian spy in hand to hand combat, but she also had very little interest in adding that to her resume.

She’d taken the time to wait and listen, determining that whether Steve was present or not, there was one woman on the other side of that door. Just one woman. Easy. Except, Robin’s mind was supplying images of Lynda Carter strangling her to death with her tone legs and red Wonder Woman boots. Not a bad way to go, but Robin also wanted to live.

Checking through the neighboring rooms, Robin searched for something to give her the advantage. That’s when she found the portable defibrillator.

Setting to work creating her very own electric weapon, she pulled apart an adjustable hand rail. The metal pipe would prove useful. With the defibrillator she pulled out the pads, attaching them to the piping. Finally, she cut apart a rubber desk mat to create a handle that would protect her from the shock.

Wrapping the machine around her like a satchel and holding the rod out in front of her, she tested it on a pillow. As soon as she activated the machine, the pipe lit and sent the pillow flying across the room in an explosion of sparks.

The idea of doing this to another person shook her, but the image of Steve screaming through torture just 24 hours prior was motivation enough.

“You can do this Robin. You’re a bad-ass bitch and you’re going to go save your damsel in distress.”

Nodding at her own little pep talk, Robin bounced on her heels, trying to hype herself up.

She finally crept into the hall and approached the room where she’d heard the voice. Steeling herself, she knocked confidently on the door. The click of heels sounded and Robin could feel her heart trying to break out of her chest. Just as the door opened, Robin activated her sparkle pipe (she’d named it to try and make it seem less like a deadly weapon, but maybe that just made it worse. The jury was out on that one).

Slamming the end into the woman’s chest, she watched in horror as it sent the slender brunette flying backwards into the room. The woman lay in a collapsed heap, chest singed from contact with the electric current.

“Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” Robin muttered to herself frantically as she approached the unconscious woman. Kneeling she held her hand over the woman’s mouth. She really did look like wonder woman with her long dark hair, tone arms and pouty red lips. “Fuck me,” moaned Robin.

As soon as she felt a breath hit her hand, she scrambled away – relief dueling with the fear that this woman could wake up and kick her ass.

A soft groan from her left caught Robin’s attention. Turning she found Steve laying in a hospital bed. A blindfold covered his eyes and a set of headphones covered his ears. Thick straps bound his wrists and ankles to the bed.

“Oh Steve,” she sympathized. He’d been missing all day and he’d been down here all alone and likely hurting too.

When she pulled off the headphones he flinched. “Steve it’s me, it’s Robin.”

She carefully peeled off the blindfold and softly brushed back his hair as he blinked against the intrusive light.

“Are you with me Steve? I’m getting you out of here. It’s going to be okay. That lady, I shocked her with this thing I made. Henderson would’ve been impressed I’ll tell you that. But she’s not dead. Well, not yet anyways. You didn’t get to see I guess, but she looks like fucking Wonder Woman. I feel like I’ve betrayed our nation, but obviously she’s not American. But geeze Steve. She’s ripped okay. She’s got to be Amazonian, I swear.”

She continued to ramble as she unstrapped his restraints and checked for any new injuries. Robin felt her shoulders fall with relief when none were found.

“Rob.”

The soft moan of her name cut off her monologue mid-sentence. Leaning over her friend, she saw that he was gazing back at her through heavily lidded eyes.

“Yeah?”

He blinked slowly before nodding towards the door.

“Maybe less talk and more get me as far from here as possible?”

Cheeks aflame, Robin nodded aggressively before reaching to help pull him upright. “I’m sorry. I have this diarrhea of the mouth when I’m nervous. That’s what Mr. Cloke my English teacher would call it anyways. But you probably know that by now.”

Pausing, she glanced at Steve who didn’t say anything, but his eyes were screaming, ‘YOU’RE DOING IT NOW ROBIN’ so she clamped her hand over her mouth and giggled out another apology.

As he slid off the table and onto is feet, Robin found herself surprised out how steady he was on the ground.

“You’re doing better.”

Steve grinned, that crooked loose-lipped smile of his and shrugged. “I think she was trying to like, drive me mad, but without any noise or light I’m pretty sure I just had the best nap of my entire life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get some bad-ass Steve next chapter so prepare yourselves!!
> 
> Also, if you have any thoughts or critiques or anything to say at all, please take a moment to comment! Thank you!!!


	11. Hey Moron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The doors slid open and there stood the man from earlier, gun in hand. He leveled it at Robin and stepped out aggressively forcing her to stumble backwards.

Robin poked her head through the door looking both ways as Steve crowded over her to do the same. She was honestly beginning to wonder if paranoia would be a way of life or if there was a counselor out there somewhere who could help them without immediately calling up a psychiatric hospital.

With the coast clear, they crept into the hallway and made for the elevator. Steve started out shoving her off and trying to be independent, but halfway down the corridor he’d veered towards the smaller girl and wrapped his arm around her shoulders for support.

“You could ask for help you know,” Robin chastised, “instead of skipping that step like it makes you manlier.”

Bumping her hip with his own, Steve rolled his eyes. “Robin, with hair like mine, I don’t have to prove my manliness.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I forgot. Your man card is all right here,” she exaggerated as she reached her free hand over to ruffle his hair.

Refusing to stoop to her mockery, Steve just bounced his eyebrows suggestively. Robin snorted.

Reaching the elevator, Robin helped Steve lean against the wall before reaching towards the up arrow. She never go the chance to push it.

The doors slid open and there stood the man from earlier, gun in hand. He leveled it at Robin and stepped out aggressively forcing her to stumble backwards.

“Who the hell are you?” he growled. Eyes wide, she backed into the wall with her hands raised. The man’s attention seemed zeroed in on Robin though, with Steve going unseen against the wall behind the aggressor.

So Steve made a decision. Leaping forward he kicked at the gun hand. The force sent the weapon skittering across tiled floor as Steve continued his attack. He threw an elbow at the man’s throat. He jammed a palm at the man’s nose. For a moment he had a clear upper hand. For a moment.

As the man reeled back under Steve’s assault, he reached out to grab the kid’s shoulders. With a firm hold he pulled Steve forward and rammed his knee into the teen’s mid-section. The result was instant. A sharp cry fell from his lips as Steve doubled over to protect his injured ribs. In his prone state, he took a hook to the chin and an elbow sharp between his shoulder blades sending him careening towards the floor. Panting harshly, Steve pressed his cheek into the cool of the tile. He’d expected another blow, but it didn’t come.

Instead the man pivoted and lunged to run. Through the racket in his brain something caught his attention, maybe it was Robin’s voice. Regardless, two words rang out. The gun.

Steve thrust out his arm managing to grasp the man’s ankle. It sent him to the floor. Steve crawled up the man’s pant leg, avoiding stray kicks as he went. He was pulling himself forward more than pulling his opponent back. Regardless, he reached out and dug is fingernails into the man’s upper arm for one final pull. They grappled, exchanging blows and shoving at one another’s faces.

Body aching, Steve felt his energy wane dramatically. This was a fight he could not win. Add it to his growing list of failures because this had no chance of ending in his favor. Despite his hopeless train of thought, he wasn’t about to give in. Panting harshly, he decked the man again and again exchanging blows as his own vision grew darker and darker. Steve wobbled forward harshly, swaying into the man’s grasp. The next thing he knew, a strong hand grabbed his head and slammed it back into the tile. Once. Twice. Steve’s world faded to black.

Robin who had stood momentarily shocked as Steve fought the man had shaken herself out of it and scrambled for the gun. Facing the two, she held it out but couldn’t pull the trigger. They were so intertwined. Getting a clear shot seemed impossible. That is, until Steve toppled. His collapse left the man completely exposed.

“Hey moron!” she yelled out.

Hand gripping Steve’s battered face, the man looked up.

Robin took the shot. “You forgot about me.”

Jerking backwards under the force of the bullet, the man fell into a quickly growing pool of his own blood.

With the man now dead or dying, Robin scurried forward. She slammed the button to the elevator and once the doors parted, she gripped Steve under his armpits, dragged his limp form into the lift, and pushed floor 5. Collapsing behind him, she pulled her friend into her lap and let herself fall apart.

No one in the Trauma Intensive Care Unit expected to ever see such a sight in their lobby, but as the doors to the lift opened, behind them sat a girl dazed with shock. She held tightly to an unconscious young man in a hospital gown. Blood dripped down his forehead. Tears glazed in her eyes. A gun lay abandoned beside them. It was a sight to see.

Despite the initial horror, the nurses took action. They specialized in trauma after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated! Thanks for coming along on this journey with me!


	12. All My Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s hurt,” she replied petulantly. When his eyebrow quirked in confusion, Robin decided to clarify. “Worse. He’s hurt worse. And he went missing. And I had to shoot someone. And it’s all my fault.”

When Jonathan arrived back at the hospital that night, the elevators were closed down and police were wandering the building alongside military personnel. He really wanted to believe it was an isolated incident, but given their track record he feared for his friends. Quickening to a run, he took the stairs two at a time.

Just yesterday he’d been running through these same corridors as he and Nancy fought for their lives. The whole thing still felt surreal, but then again the last few years kept doing that to him. His mind raced as he ran, lungs burning under the effort.

Slamming the door open on level 5, Jonathan skidded to a halt. Robin sat in a waiting room chair. Her eyes stared vacant, red rimmed and haunted. Something was very wrong. An emergency blanket draped over her shoulders and blood stained the nurses uniform she was now dressed in.

The lean young man walked cautiously towards Robin, soft in the way he always held himself. Kneeling before her, Jonathan leaned in trying to catch her hollow gaze.

“You in there Robin?” he questioned softly. It wasn’t until he reached out a tentative hand to rest on her shoulder that she jerked away and processed his presence. As soon as she startled, he pulled away. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s just me.”

“Shit. Shit Jonathan. I screwed up,” Robin confessed. Pulling her feet up onto her chair, she leaned forward, burying her face into her knees. Anything to escape. “You guys trusted me and I just fucked it all up. I’m sorry.”

Her knees muffled her voice, but Jonathan heard enough. He ran down his mental list, gathering all the pieces. There were policeman and military personnel crawling all over the hospital. Robin was clearly traumatized and feeling guilt ridden. Somebody had bled on her. She was no longer in Steve’s room.

“Where’s Steve?”

Robin trembled as she picked up her head, lip clamped between her teeth and tears beginning to escape the captivity of reddened eyes. She wouldn’t look at him.

“He’s um. He’s in his room now.”

“If he’s still here, what makes you think failed in any way? Not that I’d blame you if something went wrong. We’re not trained. We’re not even adults yet really,” he gently contested.

Lifting her hands, Robin rubbed roughly at her eyes with her palms before finally looking back at the oldest Byers boy.

“He’s hurt,” she replied petulantly. When his eyebrow quirked in confusion, Robin decided to clarify. “Worse. He’s hurt worse. And he went missing. And I had to shoot someone. And it’s all my fault.”

Her broken statements weren’t really helping. But if Jonathan Byers was anything at all, he was a good listener. “Why don’t you walk me through it?”

So she did. Beginning with her failure of falling asleep and waking up to the empty room, she recounted the day’s events as Jonathan listened attentively and only broke in to ask a clarifying question or two. She finished with Steve trying to defend her and not having the strength to hold out.

“So I had to Jonathan. I had to take the shot. He was killing him. So I did. I just, pulled the trigger. It’s not like throwing fireworks at a monster or shocking someone with a sparkle pipe. I killed him. I killed a human being. Decided to play god. And I keep shaking. I keep seeing him just bleeding. But I keep seeing Steve’s head crashing into the floor too and I don’t know what to feel.”

Jonathan took a deep breath. He wasn’t a counselor. He wasn’t a psychologist. He was just a kid who’d seen too many fucked up things in his life. But one thing he was sure of was that Robin didn’t need to feel guilty.

“Sounded like it was self-defense to me. That won’t keep away nightmares or the panic that chokes you when your mind strays too far. But it’s a start. Robin, look at me,” he demanded quietly. She slowly dragged her bloodshot eyes to meet his compassionate ones. “You did everything right. You took action when he went missing. _You_ found him. _You_ rescued him. _You_ protected him. A lot of people failed Steve today, but you are not on that list of names. Okay?”

Biting her lip again, she nodded jerkily before lunging forward. She wrapped her arms around his boney frame and pushed her face into his shoulder. Jonathan didn’t pull away. He just held her firm as she processed what he’d told her.

As the two hugged an officer approached. “Excuse me?”

Robin pulled away, wiping at her eyes once more before looking to the tall man in military uniform. “We need to debrief with you. It’s for your benefit to cooperate.”

Glancing to Jonathan, he nodded towards the officer. “You can go. I’ll stick with Steve for now.”

As they left, Jonathan’s mind sifted through the story Robin had just regaled to him. Standing stiffly, he walked towards Steve’s room. Inside, Steve lay sleeping peacefully. Not much seemed to have changed from the last time he’d been in the room, but Steve now had fresh stitches, crawling up his chin and forehead.

Approaching the bed he pushed back Steve’s unruly hair. Through the strain of swelling, Steve’s dark eyes opened.

“I get hit again?” he slurred out.

Jonathan leaned forwards, eyes as soft as his grin. “Yeah man. But from what I heard it wasn’t really a fair fight.”

“You weren’t a fair fight either.”

Huffing out a laugh, Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Yeah well, insulting my mother was always going to let the Hulk out. You had to have known that.”

“I meant the other way around,” grumbled Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed today's chapter!  
> Thanks for taking the time to comment and give me your thoughts!!


	13. Homeward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t go home alone. You’re concussed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LIFE IS INSANE. But alas, I've managed to craft another little chapter.

“You can’t go home alone. You’re concussed.”

Steve ignored Nancy and continued to pull on his putrid tube socks. The doctor said he was okay to leave and he was leaving. Simple. Okay, the doctor said he could leave as long as he had someone with him to check in and care for him. But those were also the stipulations the CPS agent gave to his parents back in fifth grade. It didn’t stop them from handing him a credit card and a hotel telephone number before locking the door behind them two days later. What’s the difference?

“If I need something, I’ll call,” he promised as he stood from the bed he’d been perched on. He wobbled slightly. The movement was slight and brief, but it still caused the whole room to flinch. Steve sent a glare sweeping across all of the worried eyes in challenge.

“If you need something, you won’t be able to call,” insisted Robin.

The whole gang was there, clustered in the small hospital room and ignoring the stench of the rancid Scoops uniform he’d pulled back on for his trip home. The kids were by the doorway gazing worriedly at their babysitter from a safe distance. He’d been grouchy and snapping at everyone since they’d arrived. Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan stood closer, hovering in case he needed a hand. They didn’t give a shit about his attitude. The last week had launched the teenagers well into mother-hen mode.

God he needed a break.

The hallway attack had set Steve back in his recovery, but he’d been in the clear for a day now and the doctor felt he’d be fine recovering from the comfort of a home at this point. The idea had thrilled Steve and terrified his friends.

“It’ll be fine. I was fine after,” he paused not wanting to mention Billy with Max leaning against the wall not three feet away. “After last time.”

“I don’t give a shit what you went through last year. This is right now. And right now I’m not letting you out of my sight,” declared Robin. There was a finality to her tone and Steve felt his head drum around like a game of Breakout was being played inside of his skull. His shoulders drooped and he sighed heavily.

“Fine. But we have to get my shit first.”

“We’ll get it!” cried Dustin, looking far too eager about the prospect of sifting through Steve’s house unattended.

Steve leveled a glare at the curly haired youth, but apparently he wasn’t making the decisions today.

“Perfect. You kids go fill a bag for Steve and then meet at Robin’s as soon as you’re done,” suggested Nancy as she pulled a pad of paper and a pen from her purse. “Jonathan and I will go get some groceries since I’m pretty sure Rob hasn’t had a chance yet.” She scribbled furiously as she spoke and her words left no room for discussion.

Steve blinked heavily. The adrenaline of leaving the hospital had flared and faded like a matchstick and all he wanted was to get to a bed where he could curl up and at least pretend to be alone. “Okay, okay. Do whatever you want.”

Waving his hand lazily as he spoke, the tall teen began to stagger towards the door.

The movement spurred the group into action. Scrambling out the door the 6 kids poured out of the room to go take on their task. Robin slipped under Steve’s arm to support him on his way. She caught Nancy’s elbow.

“Can we get a ride before you go? I don’t think Steve wants to sit in the basket on my bike.”

He gazed down at the faint pink of blush skittering across her cheeks.

“Yeah,” Nancy grinned. “I think we can do that.”

_______________________

There’s something about a small cohort of middle-schoolers popping up out of a bush to peer at the home of the wealthiest family in town. The afternoon sun seemed to radiate off of Max’s fiery red hair, almost as bright as the glare of the binoculars pressed against Dustin’s face. Inconspicuous wasn’t exactly the word.

“Coast is clear,” Dustin whispered into his walkie-talkie. “Over.”

Mike and El crawled out of their own bush as he pressed down on his device to respond. “Copy that. Over.”

The six crept towards the front door where Dustin pulled up a dusty welcome mat to sweep his hand along the rough cement of the porch.

“Bingo.” Holding up a small house key in triumph, Dustin stood. Once the door swung wide, he marched forward with confidence while the rest hesitantly followed.

“Shit,” Lucas admired as he stared around the spacious house. His family wasn’t hard up, but this place made their home seem meager.

They wandered aimless at first, taking in the tall ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and marble counter tops. What had initially impressed them quickly seemed too open, too stale, too unlived in. It wasn’t a place any of them would want to spend any stretch of time in alone.

Regrouping, Mike pulled out the list his sister had drawn up for them.

“Okay, we need a bag and uh. We need clothes, comfy ones. Socks, underwear. Deodorant. His… his conditioner?”

Max rolled her eyes and snatched the paper from his grasp before running her eyes down the list. “El and I will find a bag and get his toiletries. Lucas and Mike, grab his clothes and his underwear cause gross. Dustin, you and Will wander and snag anything else you think might be good that wasn’t written down.”

Her boyfriend opened his mouth to argue, but quickly snapped it shut when she pinned him with a no-nonsense gaze.

Half of an hour ticked by as they wandered spread through the home digging through cabinets and drawers. Glancing over the booty, they nodded, proud. Tossed in a pile were several sweatshirts, sweats, basketball shorts, socks, a bottle of conditioner and a body spray. They’d also tossed in a pillow, a bottle of Xanax that Eleven had found, and a pair of slippers Will had spotted tucked under Steve’s bed.

Satisfied, they stuffed it all in the giant duffel with ‘Harrington’ stitched across the side.

“So,” Dustin drawled as they stepped back into the sunshine. “Who knows where Robin lives?”


	14. Soft Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn’t help but to grin softly at his ducklings.
> 
> “Thanks shitheads.”
> 
> They beamed up at him like he’d actually said something kind.

Steve didn't recognize the victim in the mirror. Truly alone for the first time in a week, he leaned heavily against the bathroom counter and stared at himself. His hair clumped on the side where it had been worked into a knotted mess, formed by a vicious combination of blood, sweat, and time. The rest of the greasy strands were hanging limp or zigging wildly.

His left eye had morphed into a mottled mix of purple and green much like the many bruises littering his body. 

Steve’s chest clinched as he breathed out shakily, eyes traveling down to take in the damage tattooed across his torso. The damage felt familiar. 

For just a moment Steve wasn’t in the tiny bathroom in Robin’s apartment anymore. Rather he was back in his parent’s master bath with a bruise cream and a bag of frozen peas in hand trying to patch himself up all alone. He’d felt a lot of different things in his life but nothing left him choking like the oppressive weight of being alone in the world. Maybe this is what he deserved. 

The thought sent his heart racing and his vision blurring all the more. This was his lot in life. This is what he gets. 

“Steve?” 

The voice broke through his revery. Hands slightly trembling Steve clinched his eyes shut and ran them through his hair. 

“Yeah?” He practically gasped out. 

“You doing okay in there?”

Swallowing thickly Steve rolled his eyes. Not at his friend for caring, but at himself for being so fragile. 

“Yeah. Yeah I’m good. Just a little slow moving. Stiff you know.”

Fumbling forward the lanky teen turned on the shower. He flicked his lithe fingers through the water, waiting for it to heat up before stepping into the scorching flow. Immediately, the tension in his body began melting away. 

The pink water spiraling down the drain caught his attention but did not shock him. He’d been through this before at least, scrubbing at crusted blood as it stained the water and dripped from his frame. 

Finally clean, Steve wrapped himself in a towel and poked his head out of the steam-filled room. 

“Hey Rob? Are the kids back yet?”

She didn’t respond except to shove his basketball duffel through the cracked doorway. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled more to himself than to her. Riffling though it he found all he needed, though he pouted at the lack of hair product. 

Several minutes later, all snuggled in a pair of sweats and a baggy green sweatshirt, Steve stepped out into the living room. He couldn’t help but to grin softly at his ducklings. 

“Thanks shitheads.”

They beamed up at him like he’d actually said something kind. 

Reaching out Steve ruffled Mike’s hair -to his chagrin - and then shoved Dustin aside so he could worm his way into the center of the couch, bookended by the youth. 

For once it was quite. Maybe the kids weren’t sure how to navigate seeing Steve so docile, but rather than bitching back and forth they just watched with keen interest as Steve’s eyes drooped and his frame slipped lower. 

Within minutes the young man had drifted from the land of the living, head dipped into Will’s lap as his long legs draped across Dustin, Lucas and Max. Soft breaths puffed steadily from his lips as he slept. The entire group sat bewildered. They’d never really encountered a cuddly Steve Harrington. 

Even after his fight with Billy and the demodogs, he’d been snappy and prickly. His fear over their well-being had overridden any need of his own. 

But now as he slept soundly, curled in a puppy pile of middle schoolers, Steve was showing a whole new side. 

Later that afternoon Nancy and Jonathan bustled in, their arms overflowing with groceries. 

The pair stopped at the sight of their friend cuddled in with their younger siblings. 

Nancy had seen Steve soft and cuddly before, but never so young and vulnerable. 

This would be an interesting journey for their group. She just hoped Steve would come out alright on the other end. 


End file.
